Page 180 of Burn Like An Angel

“You didn’t silence me.” I stare into his petrified eyes. “You just made me desperate. I’ll never let you take my voice from me again.Never.”

Jonathan tries to clamp down on his throat to staunch the blood, but it’s futile. I easily capture his wrist and pin it above him, stopping his efforts to save himself. I want to watch him die.

The guilt never comes.

Not as the light inside him begins to dim. Nor as the last remaining member of my family slowly fades before me, growing weaker with each second blood gushes from his neck wound.

He isn’t my family.

Not anymore.

This monster doesn’t deserve that title.

“You fucking lunatic!”

Movement over my shoulder is the only warning I get before Elon launches himself at me. I’m tackled to the side, thrown off Jonathan. We roll together in between the leather seats.

“Goddammit!” Elon’s spittle wets my face.

Plastering on a smile that hopefully rivals his, I’m caught underneath him. “Did I foil your great retirement plan?”

“You killed him. Your own fucking relative!”

“No!” I screech back. “I killed a stranger!”

Surging my head forward, I slam my forehead into his face. Elon yelps in pain, knocked off kilter by the hard blow that reignites my head wound. Before I can launch another attack, he lands a fast punch to the cheek.

The strike makes my teeth grind together, metallic blood bursting on my tongue when I accidentally bite down. I turn feral, bucking against his body and acting on pure instinct.

“Help me restrain her!” Elon roars over his shoulder.

Yet no backup comes.

When his men fail to make a reappearance after several long moments, he hisses in frustration, attempting to pin my wrists above my head so I can stop trying to claw his face.

“Stay still, whore!”

I’m pinned on the carpet, running low on viable options. I don’t have the strength to buck him off or attempt another head butt. The glass shard is out of reach beside my uncle’s still-gurgling body.

“I should’ve snapped your fucking neck when I had the chance.” Elon’s neck is mottled with red spots, a sheen of sweat shimmering above his lip.

“You should have,” I snarl back.

“You’ve ruined everything!”

Bullets spray against the side of the jet, causing him to startle. He releases one wrist, trying to reach for his weapon. The split-second opening allows me to lash out, aiming my nails towards his eyes.

I don’t have time to hesitate. It’s a last ditch move. A final, desperate act. My fingers connect with his eye sockets and begin digging, tearing through wet mulch.

The wails that spill from his mouth feel like they’re going to shatter my eardrums. I push past my revulsion, scratching deeply until blood soaks into my fingertips.

Oh, how he screams.

So fucking gloriously.

Elon clasps his hands over his bleeding face and falls backwards. I wipe my fingers off, ignoring the ruckus echoing from outside. Bullets have been replaced by stern shouting.

I’m hardly able to stand, bracing myself on a nearby seat. Elon lays flat on his back, writhing in pain. Too exhausted to smile, I loom over him, debating whether to slit his throat from ear to ear.

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